Gred and Feorge
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: On the day Fred and George were born, Arthur couldn't have been more nervous. The boys were identical after all.


Yes that is the title. No, It's not a typo. If you get it, you get it. Hopefully you do.

Disclaimer: As I tend to forget this on the one shots, I don't own Harry Potter or any of that.

Written for the **Disney Character Challenge** (Gepetto: Write about Arthur Weasley) **Variety of Prompts Challenge** (Location: St. Mungo's, Word: Textbook)

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April 1st, 1978

Arthur liked to pretend like he knew what he was doing. Truth be told, he knew shit on what to expect. He'd read all the textbooks on the matter, him and Molly had had three boys prior, but this, this was uncharted territory for him. In a short matter of time the family of five would become a family of seven with the birth of the twins. He didn't know what to expect with this. How was he supposed to tell them apart? What would happen if he got them mixed up? Molly would kill him if he couldn't tell his own son's apart, and Arthur's greatest fear was that that may happen. What kind of a father would he be if he couldn't tell his kids apart?

Of course, Bill and Charlie kept telling him how crazy he was for being worried. Percy, dear, sweet young Percy, would nod along, eager for the arrival of his two younger brothers, but not quite understanding what was happening. Molly repeatedly told him that he would be fine, and that he was a great father. Arthur felt like he should be reassuring his wife in this situation, as she was the one who was about to give birth to not one, but two children. As it was, the mother was calm as could be, while poor Arthur was debating which kid to put the drop of ink on.

Of course, come the day of birth, it was chaos for both mother and father. It was clear the level of pain Molly was in, and Arthur had nearly forgotten to get ahold of his brother to watch the boys as the couple Flood to St. Mungo's.

It was a mess of sweat and cries of agony before Molly had been placed into one of the birthing rooms; Arthur holding onto her hand as she squeezed every ounce of blood from his fingers. Three children prior, but this birth proved to be more hassle then any of them. To be fair, this was a doubt birth, and Arthur at least knew that it wasn't going to be as easy as the others. Still, he tried desperately to keep calm, if only for Molly's sake.

No matter how many children they have, Arthur will never remember the event very clearly. Looking back, all he'll be able to recount was the red tint to his wives face, the tingling of blood loss in his fingers, and the sudden presents of a babies cry that silenced his wives groans.

It had seemed forever before the cries of an infant graced the air. Once they did, Arthur felt the familiar urge to take his son from the Healers and embrace him. He half wondered if every father felt these urges at the sight of their newborns, or if it were just him. He prayed that it wasn't just him.

Before he could even get a good glimpse of the child wrapped in a mass of blue blanket, Molly's heart wrenching screams once more penetrated the air. The Heal muttered something about going for Round Two and Arthur was sure that had she not be in so much pain, his wife would have slapped the man for his words. As it was, no violence was had as Molly was too busy trying to get the second child out of her. It was clear exhaustion was settling into her, and Arthur ran his fingers over her hand and cheek, muttering words of comfort and support. Molly blinked at him, smiling widely despite the startling amount of pain which was overtaking her.

The Healer mentioned something about crowning, but Arthur didn't know. All he cared about was helping his wife through this situation, and he did so. It wasn't long before her face stopped being so red, and her screams no longer graced the air. The cry of an infant once more took to the skies as the second child came into the world.

Arthur glanced at the bundle, noticing the familiar ruffle of red locks on the newborn. He withdrew his eyes from the children long enough to check on the state of his wife. She smiled up at him lovely, before glancing in the direction of their sons. Arthur followed her line of vision, just as eager – but more fearful – to hold the babies. It was several moments as the Healers checked the boys – ten fingers, ten toes – and cleaned them up, before they were brought back to their parents.

Arthur was handed one while Molly was given the other. Looking down at the child in his arms, he felt all of his fears grow and doubt inside of him, before falling away. The baby boy sniffled, eyes blinking slowly into the world. A few strands of vibrant red hair sat atop his chubby face, the markings of freckles coated nearly every inch of the boy's cheeks and nose. He was gorgeous, and Arthur had a feeling he'd grow up quite handsome.

Taking his gaze onto the other child in Molly's arms, Arthur felt his heart skip and do summersaults. The child was the spitting image of his brother. The same white skin, same dazzling blue eyes. There even seemed to be the same number of hairs on their head, and Arthur was sure if he counted the freckles they'd be an equal number as well.

The fear of not being able to tell them apart struck him once more. The Healer had just finished telling them which had been born first and all that, and Arthur was distraught to realize that he'd been too busy looking at his youngest sons to hear what had been said. He didn't want to ask the man to repeat what he had said, and simply nodded, trying to devise some way to get the information without looking like a useless father.

"What do you think, Arthur?"

Molly's voice snapped him from the train of thought which had not stopped running for what felt like months. He looked at his wife, the woman smiling up at him like everything was so perfect that it could only be explained by some force of fate and destiny.

Glancing between the bundle in his arms, and the one she held, Arthur had to smile as well. Despite his worry and fear, he did have to admit that the boys were perfect. Not even a day old, and they already smiled brightly at their parents.

"Have you decided on names?" The voice of the Healer entered the conversation. Arthur and Molly smiled at one another before turning their attention onto the babies they held.

"Fred." Molly whispered, running a finger over the boy's cheeks.

Arthur did the same, noting the little dimples that were more noticeable of his boy whenever the baby smiled. Difference number one, check. Smiling, Arthur whispered the name, "George".

"Fred and George." The Healer smiled, jotting down on his papers.

Arthur smiled even wider at the sound of their names together. Fred and George. The Weasley Twins. Next to him, Molly was cooing at the infant, earning a toothless grin in response. George smiled as well from his father's arms, as if sensing his brother's amusement. The sight only further brought joy into Arthur.

All the textbooks he'd read on what to expect when expecting twins didn't seem to prepare him for the moment. He was sure he'd mix the boys up once or twice – maybe even a hundred times – through the years, but for now that didn't worry him. He'd figure it along the way. That was the secret to parenthood – to life really – all one had to do was hang on, keep going, and it would all fall into place at some point.

After all, Arthur Weasley was a damn good father, with five little boys to prove it.


End file.
